


Copad (Desire)

by MissTeaVee



Series: Our Survival is our Strength [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mandos in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22481335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTeaVee/pseuds/MissTeaVee
Summary: Satrina is 25 years old when he swears to the Creed and becomes a Mandalorian.He's a little nervous leading up to it, but his not-boyfriend is very supportive.
Relationships: Satrina (OC)/Korm'rk (OC)
Series: Our Survival is our Strength [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707184
Comments: 16
Kudos: 82





	Copad (Desire)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vatukka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vatukka/gifts).



> This is dedicated to Vatukka, who loves these boys very much. Takes place approximately twenty years before present day in canon for The Mandalorian.
> 
> Auretii - Outsider  
> Mando’ad - Mandalorian (Singular)  
> Cin Vhetin! - fresh start, clean slate - lit. white field, virgin snow - term indicating the erasing of a person's past when they become Mandalorian, and that they will only be judged by what they do from that point onwards; like the *first turn of the screw cancels all debts* for sailors  
> Buyce - Helmet

He’s kneeling in a quiet room, eyes closed as he murmurs to himself. He isn’t unaware of the footsteps approaching him, but he feels secure enough to continue what he’s doing. The footsteps stop just behind him and he sighs, opening his eyes but looking only at his lap.

“It time?”

“Not yet,” says the other. He relaxes at the voice, smiling to himself. “You should stand and stretch, reciting the whole Creed on your knees is hard on the joints, you know. There won’t even be a mat on the floor.”

“I want to say it all right, Korm’rk. I don’t want to shame myself by skipping a phrase.”

“Satrina…” A sigh, the young medical trainee putting a hand on the Mandalorian-to-be’s shoulder. “You’re worrying too much. Manda, I tripped over my own tongue and had to restart the whole damn thing when I Swore in.”

“Yeah, but that was your eighteenth birthday. You were born and raised on the Creed. I’m _Auretii_ until I say it and say it right.”

“Some might argue that you’re more Mandalorian because you made the choice to join us now,” Korm’rk replies. “Come on, stand up and stretch or I’ll be disappointed in you.”

Satrina sighs, but does as he is told. The idea of upsetting Korm’rk - even though he knows the other man is only teasing- does not sit right with him. He turns to face the shorter man, and Korm’rk hums thoughtfully, reaching up one hand towards Satrina’s jaw, but stopping before it actually touches.

“Almost a shame that I won’t be able to see your face all day after tonight,” the young medic teases him. Satrina blushes and looks away for a moment. It’s always like this between them; playful interactions in private, standing just a little too close…

Satrina breaches the space between them by ducking his head and pressing his bare skin to the crown of Korm’rk’s helmet, closing his eyes. There is a warm hum from within the expressionless mask, and Korm’rk’s gloved hand finally touches him. They share space quietly for a long moment. “I can recite the Creed in Mando’a and basic perfectly, but I still feel like I’m going to forget it all when the time comes.”

“You’ll do fine,” Korm’rk murmurs, voice soft even through his helmet’s vocoder. “And then you’ll stand amongst us, a Mandalorian true.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you have any input on the exact design of your _buyce_?” Korm’rk asks curiously, and the moment is broken between them. Satrina sighs regretfully, straightening. Korm’rk’s hand does not leave his jaw.

“Yeah, Al’Alor had me look over the unfinished shape. It’s… I know I collected that beskar, but seeing it in that form…”

Korm’rk makes a pleased noise. “Good! Once you’re sworn in… well.”

Satrina hesitates before reaching to gently hold the hand that’s lightly cupping his jaw. “It’ll take so long for me to find enough beskar to make vambraces that I can gift to you for marriage.”

“We will be Intended, cyare. It will be enough, if it’s all we ever are.”

Satrina shivers at the endearment, and all of a sudden it is Real. He is to swear to the Creed tonight; he will be given his helmet. He will become Mando’ad. Impulse born of courage makes him step forward and put his hands on Korm’rk’s waist and press tight against him, cheek resting against the side of the stockier man’s helmet. There’s a startled noise out of the medic-in-training, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Satrina,” he chuckles.

Satrina plants a kiss on the visor just to hear the indignant noise it gets him. “What happened to us not being proper lovers until I swore to the Creed, _cyare?”_

“I-oh,” Korm’rk is flustered to realize he slipped, and it so pleases the Alderaani-born man that he can read the Mandalorian so well. “Well, that’s only an hour away. Good enough.”

“An hour until it starts,” Satrina sighs. “And at least three more until it’s over.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Korm’rk promises, wrapping his arms over Satrina’s shoulders in a fond embrace. “You’re already doing all the things you’re supposed to, you’re acting like a Mandalorian. This is just the final affirmation of that, the last piece of the puzzle. You know and live by the Creed, you follow the Resol’nare. You’ve been one of us for a long time now.”

Satrina lowers his forehead to the crown of Korm’rk’s helmet again, smiling. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

They stand like that for a while, basking in one another’s presence. Satrina never fails to be awed by how strongly he feels for this medical assistant he met two years ago. How can he feel such adoration for one whose face he’s never seen? Whose lips he’s never kissed? Manda, he _wants_. He knows Korm’rk wants; he knows because he’s been pulled close, bare skin presented to his mouth to kiss tenderly. He knows because they’ve slept together, only slept, because Satrina can’t help but feel the idea of his partner being naked but for helmet is ridiculous, and Korm’rk laughed fondly and tenderly at him when he said so. But they’d been pressed together, limbs tangled, breathing in the scent of one another. He knows he is wanted because lips have pressed to his forehead in the dark when Korm’rk thought he was asleep, and Satrina kept his eyes tightly closed.

If anything more heated had happened between them, well, it hadn’t been in a bed and it was much less awkward if the helmet stayed on when they were mostly clothed anyway.

His musings are interrupted by voices outside, and Satrina steps back with a sigh. “Should I go to the Forge now?”

“She hasn’t called for you,” Korm’rk tells him, brushing a gloved hand through Satrina’s short hair. “But it won’t be long.”

His head tilts, and Satrina knows he’s being smiled at. He returns the head tilt, though his own is curious. He’s well-versed in reading Mandalorian body-language after four years of living amongst them, and Korm’rk he pays the most attention to. How can he not?

He gently clasps his hands on either side of Korm’rk helmet, and the other does nothing to stop him, knowing and trusting that Satrina won’t try to remove it. Instead, Korm’rk places one gloved hand on Satrina’s chest and the other lightly strokes at a bare cheek.

“You excited, despite the nerves?”

“Yes.” 

* * *

Opening his eyes within his helmet is a revelation. He’s worn training helmets before, practiced fighting in them and getting a feel for the weight that will be a near-permanent fixture in his life now. But somehow, it’s all different. He picked all the filters that this helmet has, he decided the shape of it. He’s had the inner padding fitted around his face, and yet…

It’s something new and different and yet so right. He is no longer a Recruit; he is a Mandalorian. 

He rises and bows his head respectfully to the Matriarch before turning to face the Tribe. His teacher stands nearest, arms folded behind her back, posture pleased. Their leader steps back into his line of view, addressing the Tribe.

“Our number has greatened, a new warrior has proven his worth and joined us. He will walk the way of the Mand’alor with this Tribe. _Cin Vhetin!_ Who he was before is irrelevant. He is now Mandalorian until death or dishonor take him. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” they reply as one.

“This is the Way,” he says proudly.

* * *

“Shouldn’t there be a middle stage between ‘aquaintences who are attracted to each other and ‘fiances’? Korm’rk?” Satrina laughs breathlessly as he’s pushed into the other man’s room. “My room was closer, you realize.”

“And everyone would be going there to congratulate you. Even if they figure you’re here, they’ll leave us be,” Korm’rk replies, stepping in close to Satrina, one knee slotting perfectly between Satrina’s legs so they can stand against one another. “And what middle stage? We both know what we want of one another. You are Mando’ad now, and I intend to marry you when be both have Vambraces worthy of exchanging.”

Satrina bumps their foreheads together, and Korm’rk lets out a happy sigh. “You’re right, of course.”

“Show me your smile, cyare, it must be blinding right now,” Korm’rk requests. Satrina laughs at him.

“I haven’t had my helmet an hour and you’re already telling me to remove it. Am I that unimpressive a Mandalorian?”

Korm’rk laughs in surprise at the playful accusation, reaching for his own helmet. Satrina stares despite himself, catching Korm’rk’s wrists to stop him a moment. They’re Intended, not a person was surprised when Korm’rk had grasped his hand the moment it was appropriate to do so and Declared it to the tribe. Satrina’s about to see something precious and rare, but he needs a moment to take it all in, recognize it to be real.

Then he releases Korm’rk’s wrists and reaches to remove his new helmet. He looks down at his _buyce_ for a long moment, entranced by the shining metal. “I’m going to paint my gear blue, I think.”

“It’ll look lovely,” says Korm’rk, his voice unfiltered by vocalizer. Satrina slowly lifts his gaze, first studying that familiar copper helmet that’s now being held at Korm’rk’s chest level.

Then he looks to his lover’s face for the first time; there is no barrier between them.

It’s so easy to lean in and kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> Auretii - Outsider  
> Mando’ad - Mandalorian (Singular)  
> Cin Vhetin! - fresh start, clean slate - lit. white field, virgin snow - term indicating the erasing of a person's past when they become Mandalorian, and that they will only be judged by what they do from that point onwards; like the *first turn of the screw cancels all debts* for sailors  
> Buyce - Helmet


End file.
